Little Lies
by Avenue47
Summary: We uncover lies, and then we tell ourselves new ones, because the truth hurts too much. Sydney and Vaughn explore this concept, intimately together, and alone.
1. Part One: Intro

This takes place during episode 3.19 "Hourglass," after Vaughn reveals that Lauren is the Covenant mole. Immediately afterwards, he and Sydney are sent on this little mission, before the rest of the events of the episode.

And something to add to the standard disclaimer: The song "Little Lies," belongs to Fleetwood Mac and can be found on the albums "Tango in the Night," "The Very Best of...," and "Greatest Hits."

If you're just giving this fic a chance, please read the first three parts. They're short, and make more sense when they're read all at once. Thank you.

_Part One: Intro_  
  
Syd threw down the safe-opening device in disgust, then touched her fingertip to an earpiece hidden behind her blonde and red wig.  
  
"Boy Scout, we're too late. The safe is empty."  
  
In a crowded nightclub one floor up, Vaughn touched his own earpiece.  
  
"Copy, Mountaineer. I knew this was too easy. Let's get out of here."  
  
Syd closed the distressingly empty safe, and retrieved the device on the floor. She examined it for damage, and hoped she hadn't broken any of the circuitry inside. Marshall would be bummed if she had. He was the only truly happy person she knew anymore, and she didn't want to see him frown, if only for a minor reason.  
  
She checked the office she broke into for any evidence of her presence there. Finding none, she peeked out the door, confirmed the basement hall was empty, and then slipped out, locking the door like it had never been picked.  
  
She walked a couple doors down to a bathroom, and stepped inside. The bartender (and anyone watching, incidentally) was supposed to think this was where she went. She asked him for directions as a pretense for going down into the basement. She already knew the location of the bathroom, of course. It was two doors down from an office belonging to a Follower of Rambaldi.  
  
Intel had informed them that this man kept in his office a short Rambaldi manuscript detailing how the Passenger could be found. So of course, Dixon sent Sydney and Vaughn to retrieve the manuscript. And of course, as was the case all too often lately, the Covenant beat them there. Syd dismally wondered if they'd ever get the upper hand on the Covenant.  
  
In the bathroom, Syd checked her disguise. A shoulder-length blonde wig, liberally streaked with red, covered her long brown hair. The wig went well with the short, red, strapless dress she wore. She leaned into the mirror to check her makeup, and looked again at the strange color of the contact lenses in her eyes. It was what most would call "hazel," a color not brown, blue, or green.  
  
She and Vaughn both were equipped with contacts. They replicated retinal scans of the man whose office she raided. But as it turned out, all she needed was the simple code-breaking device Marshall gave her "just in case". Like Vaughn stated, "too easy". But then again, they should've realized that by the lack of guards in the basement.  
  
Syd reapplied her lipstick, a "hooker red," as Francie would've called it. Lipstick Sydney Bristow would never wear.  
  
_Poor Francie_, Sydney thought sadly.


	2. Part Two: Just a Day or Two

_Part Two: Just a Day or Two  
  
If I could turn the page  
In time then I'd rearrange  
Just a day or two  
(Close my, close my, close my eyes)_  
  
Sydney closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Such things came upon her at unexpected times. So often she was reminded of the life she lost.

Kendall said that when she was kidnapped, she was told that "Sydney Bristow is dead." And it was very true. The Sydney Bristow that had lived and been friends with Francie was dead, her life obliterated. The Sydney Bristow that stood here, in the bathroom of a very exclusive Vienna nightclub, was a different person. She remembered the life of that other Sydney, but the life she lived now barely resembled that other life. So much was so different.  
  
Sometimes when she was at home, alone with nothing but her thoughts and fantasies, Syd dreamed about going back in time, changing a few things. Just a few things, that's all it would take.  
  
Maybe if that night, the night she fought Allison and then was kidnapped by the Covenant, maybe if she would've called Vaughn instead of confronting Allison by herself. The Covenant would've never captured her, Vaughn would've never suffered her death, and never married Lauren. Maybe even Will would still be in her life, instead of the Witness Protection Program.  
  
But she would've still lost Francie. Maybe if she could change something even further back than that. If she could make it where she'd never joined SD-6. She'd have Francie and Will, and none of their lives would be in danger. That would've been before Noah, before Danny, before Vaughn. Before Vaughn. And still estranged from her father. Still thinking her mother was dead.  
  
And ending that train of thought, Syd would conclude, like she always did, that would've beens, could've beens didn't make her feel better. No magic solution existed that would make her life the way she wanted it. She just had to play the cruel hand Fate dealt her.  
  
Syd left the bathroom, ascended the stairs to the main level, and threaded her way through a crowd of dancers to rejoin Vaughn at the bar. She smiled at him, nodded, and wordlessly they left. As they drove back to the hotel that was their base for this mission, Sydney couldn't help but dwell on their failure.  
  
"I can't believe the Covenant got ahead of us again." Syd sighed heavily and stared out the car window.  
  
"I know. We made sure that Lauren didn't know what we were doing." Hearing the anger underlying his voice, Syd looked over at Vaughn, only to see the burning in his eyes. She very rarely saw him like that, and the times she had, it'd been about her, so long ago. Pushing that thought aside, another took its place.  
  
"Maybe this was a distraction. Maybe they just sent us here to chase our tails while they're busy somewhere else."  
  
"Yeah, maybe. But why?" Syd shook her head at Vaughn's query.  
  
"Who knows," she replied tiredly. "We can figure it out when we get back home."  
  
"Yeah, when we get back home," Vaughn repeated, harshly. Syd could tell he didn't look forward to it. She knew that masquerading as a happy husband, while knowing his wife worked for the Covenant, was hard on Vaughn, but it was difficult for her to muster any sympathy. He had put her through too much.  
  
They drove in silence the rest of the way to the hotel, both of them simmering in their own dark thoughts. The silence continued as Vaughn parked the car in the hotel garage, and they strutted back to their hotel room, in character.  
  
After entering the room, Syd plopped down in a chair, threw her head back, and closed her eyes. She listened with little interest as Vaughn telephoned their contact and relayed the information that the mission was unsuccessful. A few more moments of silence, then Vaughn said "Okay," and hung up. He came to where Syd was sitting, and she looked up at him. Many conflicting emotions swam in his eyes, but she didn't trouble herself to identify any of them.  
  
"Base ops says to stay the night here, keeping in with our aliases in case we're being watched. A plane will be waiting to take us home tomorrow. It won't be until noon, though, and we'll have to call to confirm."  
  
Syd nodded, not wanting to say anything.  
  
Vaughn sat down on the corner of the bed, just a few feet from where Syd sat. He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward, sighing.


	3. Part Three: So I'll Settle For One Day

_Part Three: So I'll Settle For One Day  
  
But I couldn't find a way  
So I'll settle for one day  
To believe in you  
(Tell me, tell me, tell me lies)_  
  
"Syd, I'm sorry." She stared at him, expression blank.  
  
"You don't have to be sorry. It's not your fault the mission failed." Vaughn shook his head.  
  
"No, not that." He paused, looking at her. Syd's face remained exasperatingly blank. Why was she closing herself to him now? Perhaps that's why he was apologizing. "I'm sorry about what I did to you."  
  
"And what did you do to me?" Not only was her face blank, but her tone was neutral. She gave nothing away. She was protecting herself from him. Something he thought she would never have to do.  
  
"I hurt you. I acted like a fool, a stupid fool, blind to what was going on around me. I reached out to you and then burned you. Tried to have my cake and eat it too I guess. And I'm apologizing." There, he had put it out there. Admitted what he did to her. Admitted it to himself. It hurt, but it felt like a cleansing hurt. He watched as a little emotion came back to her face. Unfortunately, it was anger. He realized, perhaps much too late, that maybe he hurt her more than he thought.  
  
"Why are we talking about this now?" Her voice was sharp, and it seemed she didn't really know why he was bringing it up. Or maybe she didn't care. He crumpled his brow at her.  
  
"We're not going anywhere for over twelve hours. What else are we going to do? Draw straws for the bed?"  
  
Reflexively, Syd looked at the queen-sized bed. They were in a nice hotel, but got a budget room. There was no couch, no hide-away bed, just the regular bed, nightstands, the dresser, a table, and chairs. She realized that unless they could put away some of the awkwardness present between them, somebody would sleep on the floor.  
  
She ran a tense hand through hair that wasn't hers, and sat up straight.  
  
"Fine, but what the hell do you want me to say? Yeah, you hurt me, and it's great you're apologizing, but the situation still isn't resolved, and no one knows when it will be!" She looked at him, and finally let her emotions shape her face.  
  
Vaughn watched Syd's anger, frustration, sadness, and longing present themselves to him. He sunk his head into his hands. He didn't know what to do. He felt trapped in an impossible situation. Forced to stay with a wife he now despised. Unable to move his life forward, and perhaps move it in the direction it was supposed to go - with the woman he really loved. He felt as if now he possessed some inkling of what Sydney had gone through. She too experienced having her free will ripped from her, much more than he ever had, and she still struggled with it.  
  
"Remember Nice?" Her whisper cut across the agonizing silence between them like a razor.  
  
His head sprung out of his hands, and he looked at her with surprise and confusion. He couldn't believe what she said, what she implied. But the look in her eyes told him that it was true. It was everything he thought it might be, and more.


	4. Part Four: No, You Can't Disguise

_Part Four: No, You Can't Disguise_

__

_Tell me lies_

_Tell me sweet little lies_

_(Tell me lies)_

_(Tell me, tell me lies)_

_Oh, no no_

_You can't disguise_

_(You can't disguise)_

_(No you can't disguise)_

_Tell me lies_

_Tell me sweet little lies_

Syd gazed into Vaughn's eyes, amused in the back of her mind that the contacts changed his eyes from their usual beautiful green, to a rather startling blue-green.

However, in her foremost thoughts, she felt pleased that he understood completely what she was trying to say, even though she used so few words.

How long ago was it? _Just over three years_, Syd thought, _since that night_. That beautiful night when they were willing to throw away rules, conventions, and uncertainties to be together. Even if it was for just one night.

She remembered how he so carefully, so tentatively offered his apology to her then, for not being upfront with her about what was going on with her father, for not considering her able to fully handle what was happening. In the same breath, he invited her to dinner. She recalled how his eyes lit up and danced with excitement when she accepted.

Then the humble restaurant, with the wonderful food, and the even more wonderful proprietor. The jovial Frenchman seemed to possess an uncanny understanding of what was occurring between the handsome young man and the lovely young woman visiting his restaurant, even if they themselves didn't.

However, they began to understand a little more when the proprietor gave them a room upstairs, free of charge.

At that point in time, Syd felt strongly the burden of her double life weighing upon her. It was endless lies, deceptions, and betrayals. No matter how hard she worked, she never knew when it would end.

They were in that place again, even if the roles were switched. They didn't know how long Vaughn would have to keep up his charade with Lauren. And even when she was gone, they still couldn't immediately come together like they had after the fall of SD-6. Too much had happened, and things would have to proceed with agonizing slowness.

But tonight, in thanks for another apology, she would offer to ease his burden, as he wished to ease hers that night in Nice. It would be a no-strings-attached night in which they could both relive what they had missed for so long. Then tomorrow they would board a plane, and go home to broken lives. Still, they would have a new memory to cherish, and to bolster them for the struggles ahead.

As she began to lose herself in those eyes that were Vaughn's, and somewhat not Vaughn's, she saw the raw, naked need and desire rise in them. It was all the warning she received before he reached out, cupped her face, and pulled her in for a fierce kiss.

Syd placed her hands, with long, red, acrylic nails, on his shoulders, over the shirt he was wearing. It was a shiny blue, and made of some smooth material she couldn't identify. It wasn't something Vaughn would normally wear.

The intensity of their kiss brought both of them to the floor, Syd to her knees, sitting on her feet, and Vaughn also to his knees, but straddling Syd; around and above her. With one hand, he reached for her blonde and red wig, meaning to remove it, but she stopped him.

She realized that she wanted it like this, wanted this one-night-stand to be between their aliases, not themselves. It felt too painful to be themselves.

He pulled away for a moment to look at her, and she pleaded with him, using only her eyes. He nodded, he understood, and he kissed her again. She ran one of her hands through his hair, and idly remembered that for his disguise, he washed it with something that tinted it heavily with red until he washed it again.

These thoughts, and all others were swept away as Sydney's desires and needs were fully roused by Vaughn's kiss. She brought her hands to the front of his shirt, and savagely pulled it open, thankful that it was fastened by snaps. Vaughn released her momentarily, allowing Syd to push the shirt down his shoulders, arms, and off his hands. As he kissed her again, she immediately took advantage of the newly bared flesh by running her hands up his muscled stomach, chest, and resting again on his shoulders. The incredibly beautiful feeling of his skin gliding beneath her fingers forced small cries to escape both of them, from their locked-together lips.

Goaded even further by the strength of their feelings, Vaughn scooped Syd up in his arms, and stood up. He climbed on the bed, and placed her in the center.

With a rough, but not unappreciated hand, he rolled her to her right side, and unzipped the back of her dress. He placed her on her back again, and she gazed up at him, her altered eyes filled with the dark knowledge of unadorned lust.

His eyes mirroring hers, he began to peel the dress off her body, revealing matching crimson bra and panties. She kicked her shoes off before he moved the dress over her feet, and onto the floor. Then he straddled her again, this time her entire body. He stooped for another kiss, and filled his hands with her.

He sought to know with his fingers those places he had once known better than anything else; the contours of her shape, the smoothness of her skin, the little spots where he could linger, and cause her desire for him to rocket even higher.

At the same time, her hands made similar work of his body. She rubbed his torso again, and then moved her hands along his sides and back. Taking advantage of a feature she chose not to have naturally, she raked her nails down his back, eliciting a pleased hiss from him.

They moved their mouths as well, taking moistened lips to rediscover ears, necks and shoulders. At the same time she grasped the front of his pants, he discovered the front clasp of her bra. A few manipulations and wriggles later, she was clad in nothing but red lace, and he in nothing but desire.

There's a power a woman has when the man before her is naked, and she maintains clothing, no matter how little it is. A significant measure of control over the situation. An advantage she gains in what is to come next. Sydney felt not at all averse to exercising this power. She scuttled away from Vaughn before she could be relieved of her panties, and came to rest at the foot of the bed, in a crouch.

Reacting somewhat instinctually to her actions, Vaughn pulled himself to the head, sitting on the pillows. They stayed that way, staring intently at each other across the expanse of the bed, which suddenly seemed as large as a football field. Their bodies screamed at them that very close wasn't close enough. But there are things to be appreciated when all you have is one night.

Taking hold of her power, Syd smiled wickedly, and rose up on her knees, proudly displaying her magnificent body. She felt Vaughn's gaze burn across her bare skin, and she knew how much more he burned for her. It could be seen in his very obvious arousal, yes. But also in his ragged breaths, in the sweat shining on his brow before he even exerted himself, in the way his normally steady hands trembled.

And she was going to make it worse. She was going to twist his desire until he became nearly mindless in it.

Nearly.

She placed her hands on herself, in the middle of her taut stomach, and began to caress herself. One hand sliding down, the other up. Her hands constantly moved, stopping only to give a strategic pause, or a teasing squeeze. Her movements hypnotized him, and he yearned for nothing more than to seize her and touch her himself. But he remained perfectly still except for his eyes, which followed her hands faithfully.

Elegantly, she stepped off the bed, and stood in front it. Her hands never stopped roaming her body, though for a second, they both rested at her hips. In a blink, the scrap of red lace resting there disappeared. Syd struck a pose, and again she and Vaughn just stared at each other.

For the first time in almost three years, Sydney Bristow and Michael Vaughn were completely nude before each other. Although their faces tried to tell the lie that these two were really someone else, the make-up, false eye color, and fake hair couldn't disguise the emotions running between them.

Time sighed, and the stares broke. They rushed for each other and met in the middle of the bed, once again a small space made for two. They became a whirl of flesh and limbs. Far from chaotic, they conducted their sensuous dance with a grace made only possible by the knowledge and intimacy between two minds, hearts, and souls.

Then, in that vital moment, when two bodies become one passionate whole, Sydney stopped Vaughn before he could complete them. She pulled his ear to her lips and whispered very gently.

"Tell me that everything's going to be alright."

It would be a lie, of course. Even if everything turned out for the better, in this complex situation they were trapped, it would be impossible for i everything /i to be alright. He understood though. He understood the need to be comforted, even if that comfort was a lie. He had been trapped by such a lie.

Vaughn turned his head, looked at Syd through those strangely colored contact lenses for a moment, and then kissed her tenderly. Moving his lips from hers to her ear, he replied.

"Everything's going to be alright." As soon as the last syllable passed his lips, he felt her slight relaxation, and in that moment, he joined them.


	5. Part Five: There's a Reason Why

_Part Five: There's a Reason Why  
  
Although I'm not making plans  
I hope that you understand  
There's a reason why  
(Close your, close your, close your eyes)_  
  
All throughout that surreal night that stood outside their lives, Sydney and Vaughn made love to each other in almost every manner they had when they were together. And even a few ways that they never got the chance to try. They touched every inch of each other's bodies, derived pleasure every way they dared. Too soon, the outside world would come to the hotel room door, and demand that they return to their respective agonies.  
  
The first faint knocking could be heard as the dawn began its foray into the horizon. The sated pair finally lay still in the bed, wide awake and holding each other. They knew that soon, they would have to rise and become themselves again, take on their pains and burdens again.  
  
The encroaching sunlight brightened the room's window slightly more when Syd made the decision to end the reverie.  
  
"I need to take a shower." Vaughn pulled her closer to him, unwilling to let go. He quickly devised his own compromise for the situation.  
  
"Let's take one together." It was after all, the one way they hadn't been together during the enchanted night. "In fact, I'll go start the shower." In an instant, he let her go, and rolled out of the bed. Syd felt a sudden chill from the absence of his comforting warmth.  
  
She waited until she heard the water running before she left the bed. She took a few moments to remove the several bobby pins that still held her wig in place. She had learned long ago how to secure a wig so that it would withstand fleeing, fighting, and yes, even vigorous lovemaking.  
  
She also stopped to remove the contacts from her eyes and place them in the special case Marshall designed for them. At least one piece of his technology would be saved, even if they never used it again. It amazed her that she managed to wear the lenses this long. Usually they started to drive her insane after just an hour. She guessed it was testament to how engaged she had been over the course of the night. She smiled at that thought and walked to the bathroom.  
  
Steam filled the cream-tiled room, and she could barely see Vaughn through the fogged glass of the shower. She spotted a case similar to one she just handled next to the sink, and realized that she hadn't noticed he kept his contacts in all night as well.  
  
Syd slid the shower door to the side, and stepped into the steam and water. The soles of her feet tingled with slight pain as they adjusted to the hot water, in contrast to the cold tile. As she slid the door closed, she looked over at Vaughn, who stood under the showerhead.  
  
His eyes were closed, and his arms relaxed at his sides. The water running down his face and body took his red hair color with it. It created the eerie effect of diluted blood streaming down his skin.  
  
After just a few seconds, the color disappeared, and Vaughn opened his eyes. He seemed slightly surprised to see Sydney in the shower with him, even though moments ago he invited her there.  
  
They now looked at each other as Nature intended them to: Syd's chestnut hair hanging down her back and into her face, her brown eyes looking into Vaughn's green ones. All the pretenses they maintained during the night were now stripped away. In this moment, nothing but truth lay between them.  
  
Unfortunately, the truth was an ugly thing.  
  
Vaughn reached out, took Syd's hands, and pulled her to him. They simply embraced silently, letting the water cover them. The closeness of bare skin didn't arouse them this time. Their bodies had nothing more to say to each other, at least nothing that would make the coming moments any easier.  
  
"Thank you." Vaughn whispered into Sydney's quickly dampening hair. She heard the volumes spoken in that one phrase, the gratitude for the momentary emotional relief, for the abatement of physical tension, for a reason to continue with his vile assignment.  
  
"I'm not expecting anything." Her reply was so soft that he could barely hear her over the sound of the shower. He didn't know what to make of that, so he pulled back to look into her eyes. He knew he could read there the meaning of her statement.  
  
What he found in that umber gaze shocked him to his core. A peculiar hopelessness resided there, a belief that everything _wasn't_ going to be alright, not even remotely. She had given up on them, and last night was her goodbye. What surprised him only a little more was the implication that before this, she had believed, somewhere inside of her, that there was hope for them.  
  
Vaughn stared deeper into Syd's eyes, and read the entire story. Since the moment she'd discovered he was married, she'd harbored the hope that their love for one another would bring them back together. She also knew all too well the irrationality of the heart, and its tendencies to dream and desire things it may never have. She knew equally well the hazards of their occupation, which changed the situation drastically.  
  
She gave him the last line to her sorrowful tale.  
  
"This is not about cutting off an arm of the monster. This is about killing the monster." As the words swirled around the shower, haunting them both, he realized she was as right as he was when he spoke those words to her years ago.  
  
Vaughn never thought beyond "find the Passenger, take Lauren into custody." Melancholy descended as he became conscious of the fact it might not end with the Passenger. He might be required to deceive Lauren to gain another objective. He might have to continue with his sham of a marriage until the Covenant was destroyed as the Alliance had been.  
  
How long might that take? One year? Two? Five? He and Sydney couldn't commence an affair during that time, for instead of endangering his marriage and their morals, it would probably endanger their lives. He couldn't expect Sydney to wait for him that long, either. He suspected she could, if she so desired, but did she after how he had hurt her? Plus, that didn't change the fact that they lived perilous lives, and one or both of them might not survive to see the end of his assignment.  
  
Vaughn gathered Syd back to him, and hugged her tightly. She had foreseen all of these possibilities, and did the only thing she could: given him one final act of pure, true love so he may descend to the abyss of lies, and still remember what truth feels like.  
  
He whispered into her ear, "One more time, please. Just like this." She nodded, and they shared a soulful kiss under the cleansing water.


	6. Part Six: Let's Give it a Try

_Part Six: Let's Give it a Try_

A/N: The "golden thread" reference was inspired by the line "But threads that are golden don't break easily" in the Tori Amos song _Horses_ on the "Boys For Pele" album.

_No more broken hearts  
We're better off apart  
Let's give it a try  
(Tell me, tell me, tell me lies)_

A miasma of sorrow choked the hotel room with silence as Sydney and Vaughn dressed and readied themselves to face the world.

"Do you want any breakfast?" After tucking his shirt in, Vaughn walked over to the table where a leather bound folder lay. He picked it up and began leafing through the room service section. Syd finished buttoning her suit jacket and shook her head.

"I don't really feel like eating anything." Vaughn looked at her and nodded.

"You know what? Neither do I." He placed the folder back on the table.

The silence resumed as they packed their bags. Sydney finished the packing by placing the op tech in a bag specifically made for the purpose. She grabbed all the bags, and placed them next to the door. Vaughn watched her with wistfulness and regret, then turned his attention to the phone.

Syd watched him call the contact, and tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. Her thoughts drifted not to the wild coupling of last night, but to the tender lovemaking of this morning. While in the darkness they evoked every physical pleasure to be found, in the light and the water they evoked every emotion.

Before entering the shower with Vaughn, Syd felt sure she could take this night in its proper context, and place it into that part of her mind where she placed all emotional thoughts and memories that could threaten her stability. Danny was there, Will was there, and she had even put her mother there. When she made the decision to give herself to Vaughn one final time, she also decided that afterwards, she would place him there as well.

It seemed like a sound decision, one that would help both of them endure their continued separation. And going through the night wearing their lies should've served to make enacting her decision easier.

But then they made slow, gentle love in the shower, and all the lies washed down the drain. Afterwards, when she sat in the tub with him wrapped around her, she discovered her folly. She would never, ever be able to compartmentalize Michael Vaughn. She thought the reason she hadn't before was due to her refusal to try, her irrational belief that he would be returned to her. But now she knew that she hadn't because it was impossible.

Vaughn wasn't just an emotion or a memory to her. He was a golden thread wrapped around her heart, as she was wrapped around his. And if ever that thread was removed, the heart would bleed to death. She realized that had already been happening to both of them; they had been slowly bleeding to emotional death.

This morning, they came together and stopped the bleeding. This morning they were sorrowful, but they were also heart-whole. This morning marked a new beginning. The thought buoyed Sydney's spirits.

Vaughn hung up the phone and turned to Syd in an echo of last night. Once again his eyes were filled with myriad emotions, which she identified as sadness, resignation, and dread anticipation.

"We're clear. There's a car waiting for us behind the hotel." Vaughn sighed heavily. "Ready?" Syd nodded and picked up the bags. Vaughn strode over and opened the door for her, then shut it behind them after exiting. He relieved Syd of his bag and the op tech bag, and silently led the way out.

Their contact would take care of the checkout and the rental car, so that they wouldn't have to be seen again. They simply had to meet their ride to the small airstrip outside of the city, and then take the jet waiting there home.

Just as promised, a dark sedan with heavily tinted windows sat in the alley behind the hotel. A small, wiry man with spectacles and a mustache leaned against the hood. Without any greeting, he opened the back doors for the two agents, and then the trunk. He got into the car himself, and started it, trusting the agents to take care of themselves. Syd and Vaughn deposited their bags in the trunk, and then got into the car.

It was another silent car ride to the airport. Though the driver was a CIA contact, and completely trustworthy, Syd and Vaughn had nothing mission related to say, and anything else they might speak about, they didn't want overheard.

The silence followed them, loyal as a shadow, as the driver parked at the airstrip, and the agents took themselves and their belongings out of the car.

As she and Vaughn headed to the jet's hatch, Syd looked up at the overcast sky. She found it somewhat appropriate. A first glance, and everything looked gloomy and darkened. However, she knew that soon they would be flying above the clouds where the sun shined and the sky blazed azure.

They boarded, tossed their bags into some empty seats, and found seats for themselves across from each other. They buckled themselves in per the pilot's instructions, and prepared for immediate takeoff.

Syd looked at Vaughn expectantly, but he seemed disinclined to eye contact, much less speech. He merely slumped in his seat and stared into nothingness. Every few minutes he would take his hand and run it across his face, or over his head.

Syd watched him do this during the plane's ascent, and for twenty minutes after it leveled off above the clouds.

That's when she decided that she'd had enough.

"You keep doing that and you're going to be noseless and bald by the time we get back." She looked at him very blandly, and prayed he took the joke.

Unfortunately, he just gave her a hard look. The anger had returned to his eyes, full force, and some of it was directed to her. Syd's face softened.

"Vaughn, what's wrong?" A look of incredulity came over his face, and the burning in his eyes intensified. However, his voice carried to her with deadly calm.

"How can you ask me that? It's not like you don't know." Syd could've slapped herself on the forehead. Of course she knew. His eyes were telling her the same story that hers told him this morning. She had let go of her hopelessness and desperation, and he had taken it in.

"I'm sorry. So, so sorry." The flames in his eyes burned even brighter.

"For what? Last night?" Syd's eyes widened, and she quickly leaned forward.

"Oh no, no! Not at all!" The green fire banked slightly.

"For what then?" Sydney reached out and took Vaughn's hands into hers.

"For this morning," she squeezed his hands and continued before his anger could escalate again. "For how I was feeling. Ever since Hong Kong, and I saw you wearing that wedding ring," her eyes slid down to the gold band that now they both detested. "I've had hope. It was the first emotion I felt when I saw you that night. That, and love." Her eyes came back to his, and she was relieved to see that the burning there subsided to coals. Still there, but not in the forefront.

"Those feelings couldn't be put away, couldn't be defeated by a scrap of gold. They were still there when I was so angry with you. They were probably the reason _why_ I was so angry with you. Because I still had hope and love."

Syd felt the memories and the moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes, but she couldn't stop.

"Then we started working together, and I felt like a piece of my life had been returned to me. Even though I couldn't have you to myself, you were still there to help me, protect me, and give me someone to trust. Then in North Korea," Syd paused, her voice choking up, the tears beginning to fall. "You told me that my hope and love wasn't in vain. Before then, I thought that I was just torturing myself, holding myself back, but it was for a reason. Even when you hurt me, every time you went back to Lauren, I never gave up." 

Unable to speak at a normal volume anymore, Syd lowered her voice. "Then, we found out about her. I hurt so much for you. But I hurt so much for myself too. And even though Dixon and my dad told you it would only be until we found the Passenger, I knew better. You're a Covenant asset, if we take Lauren into custody, they might try to kill you. I knew that you might have to keep pretending until we were sure that wouldn't happen, and that could only be guaranteed by bringing down the Covenant. We don't know how long that'll take, we don't know what'll happen before then. I had to let you know how I feel, because it might've been my last chance." 

She finished by breaking down completely, sobs long repressed tearing from her. Vaughn released his seat belt, and leaned over to embrace her, not noticing that he was crying too. They held each other for long minutes until Syd had no more tears. Vaughn whispered gently to her.

"What changed?"

She lifted her head from his soaked shoulder, wiped her face, sniffled, and then smiled at him.

"This morning, after the shower," her cheeks colored a bit, and made him smile. "I realized that I just couldn't shuffle what I feel away. That's what I was going to do, but I can't. But it's wonderful. It's wonderful that I love you and you love me," she paused, looking into his eyes, afraid she might be dreaming. But the way he looked at her didn't lie, and she continued. "And we'll be together. Maybe not together like we really want to be, but we'll be together, and that's enough to keep me going."

Though she'd stopped crying, the tears continued to slowly trickle down his cheeks.

"Yes, yes we will be." He hugged her, tightly enough to steal her breath, and kissed her temple. "Can you promise me something?"

"Probably not." He closed his damp eyes and pressed them to her shoulder.

"You're right. But, how about this - barring capture or death, will you stay near me?" She squeezed him back.

"What about undercover missions and reassignments?" He sighed heavily. This was too difficult, and she kept reminding him.

"Whatever you can give me Syd, I'll gladly take. Just promise to stay with me when you can, only go away when it's impossible not to."

"I always meant to. What about you?" His voice came breathy and desperate to her ear.

"Yes, always, always."

It was almost like a spy's version of a wedding vow.

They finally released each other, and shared a chaste kiss. The leaned back in their seats and spent a few minutes wiping eyes and noses, regaining composure.

After using Vaughn's handkerchief to clean her face, Sydney shook her head somewhat disgustedly.

"Look at us! We're so depressing. You'd think we're going to our execution." She unbuckled herself and stood up. "In fact, I think we were cheerier going before the firing squad!" She started towards the back of the plane.

"Where are you going?" Vaughn called after her.

"I'll be right back!"

He leaned his head into one hand, and tapped the armrest with the other. A few minutes later, Syd returned not to their seats, but a set of seats nearby facing a table. He rose to see what she'd brought.

Little bottles littered the table, at least two dozen of them. They were all full of various sorts of liquor. She turned to him and smiled, a small bottle of tequila already in her hand.

"The CIA stocks these jets well. Let's see, we'll have a stop in London to refuel before flying to New York, and then the flight to L.A. I think we have time for a good drunk."

Vaughn looked at her for a moment with disbelief. Then he shook his head and returned her smile. It was going to be a very long flight, and he could use "a good drunk." As he remembered, it was fun being drunk with Sydney. Of course, being drunk with her always led to other things, but they'd already taken care of that, right?

He picked up a little bottle of gin and tapped it to her tequila.

"Cheers."

"Cheers."


	7. Part Seven: Tell Me Lies

_Part Seven: Tell Me Lies_

Tell me lies  
Tell me sweet little lies  
(Tell me lies)  
(Tell me tell me lies)  
Oh no no  
You can't disguise  
(You can't disguise)  
(No you can't disguise)  
Tell me lies  
Tell me sweet little lies

Tiny bottles lay strewn across the floor of the jet, and some more rested on the seats. Every so often, another would careen away from the table and the two intoxicated agents sitting there.

"God, I haven't been drunk since," Syd rolled her eyes and looked up, swaying a little in her seat.

"That long, huh?" Vaughn slurred after a few minutes.

"Last week!" She finished triumphantly.

"Last week." He repeated after her.

"Ye-ah. Weiss invited me over to watch some movie he rented, but the DVD was scratched, so we ended up playing the Trivial Pursuit drinking game." Syd waved her hands in the air, though it seemed to have little relevance to what she said. Vaughn nodded almost as pointlessly.

"Trivial Pursuit drinking game. How do you play that?"

"Weeelllll, you play it just like regular Trivial Pursuit, except when you get a question wrong, you take a shot. And if you get it right, everyone else, ya know, everyone else being Weiss, has to take a shot." Syd finished her explanation by finishing her most recent tequila bottle. She rifled through the assortment on the table, tossed a few empties over her shoulder, and picked out another little bottle with the golden fluid.

"Let me guess how it ends - either someone wins the game, or you're too drunk to read the cards." Vaughn finished his own bottle, whiskey this time, and merely let it fall to floor.

"How did you know?" Syd gasped, and then lowered her voice. "You've played it too." Vaughn laughed and shook his head.

"Naw, that's just how all his drinking games end - until you win, or you're too drunk to play. But isn't that most drinking games?" Syd nodded a little, and then squeezed her eyes closed to fight off sudden dizziness.

"Um, yeah. But yeah, I'd say so - but that's all the Weiss drinking games I've played." She opened her eyes back up, and stared at a far section of the plane to refocus.

"So you spend a lot of time over there?" Vaughn asked nonchalantly while popping open a mini-vodka. Syd focused on him, and grinned.

"_Oooh yeah._ Weiss has been _so nice_ since I've been back. He's _just the cure_ for loneliness." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and tried to smirk, but only ended up looking goofy. At the same time, Vaughn went very silent, and very serious. He set his vodka down, and stared at Sydney. It took her a few moments, but Vaughn's change began to penetrate her alcohol-fogged mind. She matched his solemn look with one of her own.

"Vaughn, I…" 

"Weiss, he…."

"No, Vaughn, I meant…" Only a split second later she caught the gleam in his eye.

"_That slt!_" Syd's mouth dropped open, and nothing emerged.

"He's been coming over and _seeing me_, and never once told me about you!" Vaughn affected fake rejection, complete with phony sniffle. "He told me _I_ was the only one."

Again it took a little time to process, but the result was inevitable: Syd collapsed in helpless giggles, wrapping her arms around herself and holding her sides. Vaughn soon joined her.

After a few minutes, Syd managed to regain control of herself, and wiped a few lighthearted tears from her eyes. She sighed contentedly, and leaned back in her seat.

"That's almost as funny as the time Sloane ordered Sark to wear one of my mission dresses around SD-6." This time, Vaughn's jaw dropped.

"What?" Syd leaned forward suddenly, and pointed at him.

"Got you!" And the laughter began again.

For a second time, Syd dried her eyes, and leaned back.

"I haven't had this much fun since," she paused, slight melancholy shadowing her eyes. "Since the last time I spent a night with Will and Francie. _Real_ Francie." She breathed in deeply, inhaling the memories.

"How's Will?" Vaughn asked, all traces of humor gone. Syd exhaled quickly, and stared at Vaughn for a moment. He hadn't been too happy to hear she'd slept with Will, which at the time Sydney found absurd; both for the fact that he was _married_ to someone else, and they were supposed to be running for their lives, not having petty spats.

"He's good. He's a construction worker, of all things. He was going to ask out a painter when I last saw him." Vaughn nodded, not at all disturbed by talking about the man who'd touched Sydney after he'd had her.

Since North Korea, Vaughn regretted snarking at Syd about Will. She was a grown woman with her own life, and he no longer had any right to her. He thought that Will probably deserved her far more than he did.

"You know, Will was upset when he found out about us." He told Syd quietly.

"Yeah, I know," she replied just as quietly, hanging her head. She remembered seeing the disappointment on Will's face, and feeling the pain at hurting him warring with the joy she had found.

"Yeah, I think he was hoping I'd ask _him_ out." Syd raised her head to see that gleam again. She shoved her hand into Vaughn's shoulder.

"Vaughn!"

A fraction of a second later, the jet shook. The pilot's voice came over the intercom.

"Just a bump in the road, folks." Vaughn looked out the window in a futile attempt to see something, then glanced over at Sydney.

"Syd, are you okay?" She was clutching the armrests of her seat, and squeezing her eyes shut again.

"I've never done drunk and flying before."

"Never?" Vaughn asked, incredulous. He'd done drunk and flying plenty of times. Especially after Sydney's disappearance.

"Never." Vaughn left his seat and came around the table to grasp Syd's arm.

"C'mon." Without question, Syd got up and followed Vaughn to the back of the jet, gripping his hand the whole way. He opened up the small bathroom, and pushed her inside. "Stay right there, I'm gonna get you something."

"Why couldn't you have brought it to the seat?"

"Just in case." With that, he left her there.

She sat down on the toilet, held her head in her hands, and listened to him rummaging in the galley. She heard the sound of liquid pouring, and something fizzing. He returned with a clear plastic cup of something effervescent.

"What is that?" He handed her the cup.

"My own personal drunk-on-an-airplane remedy: tonic and Alka-Seltzer." She looked into the cup doubtfully.

"Isn't that redundant? I mean, fizz. And more fizz."

"It works, trust me on that. Used it many times. Oh, and take these too." He handed her some pills. She recognized them as Dramamine and Tylenol. Without any more questions, she tossed the pills into her mouth, and chased them with Vaughn's remedy.

He watched her for a minute while she waited for the concoction to work. Going back to the galley, he grabbed a handtowel, and wet it with cold water. He brought it back to the bathroom, squatted down, and began blotting Sydney's forehead with it. She leaned back, and snaked an arm around him, bringing him closer to her. He continued his ministrations while reaching for her free hand with his.

They stayed there for not quite a quarter hour, in the same position. Vaughn kept rubbing Syd's forehead until the towel lost its soothing coolness.

"How are you feeling now?" He searched her face for any sign of distress. She gazed at him, and graced him with a small smile.

"Better. I guess your cockamamie remedy worked." Vaughn stood up and tossed the towel into the small sink.

"Hey, but it _did_ work, didn't it?" He held a hand out to Syd, which she gratefully used to pull herself up.

"Yeah, but…" Her next words became lost as the plane rocked again. Syd stumbled into Vaughn, which propelled both of them out of the bathroom and up against some adjacent storage lockers.

"Sorry about that. I'll try not to do it again." The pilot's voice held a hint of humor, and Syd wondered if he enjoyed flying through turbulence.

Vaughn had caught Syd in his arms, and the turbulence caused her to grasp his shoulders tightly. As she sent evil glares towards the cockpit door, he looked her over with concern, and no small amount of affection.

"You okay?" She seemed surprised that he was holding her, and caught his eyes with hers. She began to feel the familiar heat rise in her body as she stared into his verdant gaze.

"Yeah." Without thought, she grabbed the sides of his head, and brought his lips to hers.

Surprise held Vaughn now, but only for a few seconds. He squeezed Sydney tighter to his body, and kissed her back with all the passion he could muster. It was only momentary, however, as passion demanded more from both of them.

He maneuvered them into the galley, still kissing Syd. He positioned her in front of a vacant counter, then picked her up and placed her atop it. Immediately, two pairs of hands grabbed for clothing fasteners, while two pairs of lips continued to kiss. In very short time, Vaughn's jacket, shirt, tie, and undershirt all lay on the floor. Sydney's jacket and blouse were pulled open, revealing a skin-tone-colored bra.

They simply stared at each other for a long moment, both of them assured, in their drunken brazenness, of the moments to come. Then they kissed again, and greedy hands went to seek out flesh.

Vaughn tore his lips from Syd's to kiss down her jaw, down her neck, down to her exposed chest, and moved his hands to expose more. Meanwhile, Syd kissed any available inch of skin she could, until he had ducked down too far for her to kiss anything. Then she just clutched his shoulders, and leaned back to enjoy his attentions.

Which were getting more involved, as he removed his hands from her chest, and began to run them up her nylon-covered legs. He felt so thankful that she wore a skirt today. Her office clothes rarely included skirts, which for some reason, caused him to think those dark, conservative pieces of clothing more seductive than her skimpy mission dresses.

He pushed this particular dark, conservative, knee-length skirt up to nearly her hips. As he explored farther with his hands, it delighted, but not surprised him to find that she wore not pantyhose, but stockings. His memory reminded him that she found pantyhose too restrictive.

He continued to rain kisses upon her bare upper body, as his hands sought out, and found her panties. He tugged them down over the garters, and was forced to move back to free the piece of beige cotton from her legs. The panties then dropped to the floor, along with her shoes.

He rose up to gaze at her, and see the lust burning bright in her eyes. Her hand shot out to grab his belt, pulling him back towards her before her other hand joined the first in undoing the buckle. The deft handling of the button of his pants, and quickness with which she divested him of them and his boxers, belied the fact that she was rip-roaring drunk.

His hands seemed unaffected by alcohol as well, when he sent one to slide between her thighs and find her pleasure there. Her breath hissed out between her teeth as he did indeed discover her pleasure, and she retaliated by reaching down and finding his, firm and ready for her.

They tormented each other in such a manner for several minutes, until neither of their intoxicated minds could withstand the continuing tease. Vaughn moved his hand from Sydney to himself, as she took her hand to his shoulder, scooted forward, and opened herself to him.

_**This** is why I like being drunk with Sydney_, was Vaughn's last coherent thought before he lost himself in her once again.

Intoxicated sex is a completely different animal than sober sex, no matter the breed. It is a frenzied beast, full of hunger and little else. However, such a beast can be tamed somewhat by love.

And so it was for the two agents joined together thousands of feet above the earth. Though intoxicated, they were still cognizant that they conducted their coupling with love; the fount of all that is good in their lives.

Their erotic dance was undeniably frenzied, with quick thrusts, and quicker breaths. But their eyes were locked onto each other, conveying every emotion past the alcoholic haze. They continued to look into each other as release shook both of them at the same time, and they moaned their sentiments to one another.

After the last wave of ecstasy rippled across his body, Vaughn wrapped his arms around Sydney, and lay his head on her shoulder. She sighed heavily, and mirrored his action. After a beautiful moment of afterglow, she spoke.

"Let's dump Weiss. I like you better anyway." Vaughn chuckled into her shoulder.

"Ditto. He doesn't deserve us anyway, the hussy."

A few more minutes of embracing and giggles later, the pair was finally ready to separate. Vaughn helped Syd down from the counter, and brought her panties up from the floor the same time he brought his pants. She accepted them gracefully, and gave him several coy little glances as they dressed for the second time that day.

She, of course, finished before he did. She leaned back against the counter and watched him tuck in his shirt, then start to redo his tie. She felt a yawn coming on, but unsuccessfully attempted to suppress it.

"I'm really tired." Vaughn tightened his tie and reached for his jacket.

"Oh yeah? Well, I know a few of the seats fold into beds, or something resembling them." Syd gave him an arch look.

"Really? Why didn't we use one of those then?" Vaughn grinned at her, and leaned over her, placing his hands on each side of her. He bent his head to her ear.

"Because we've never done it in the galley before." She giggled, and he turned to capture her lips in a short kiss. "Let's go get some rest." He stood up straight, took her hand, and led her to the main cabin.

There, they unfolded the seats that would make cots suitable for sleeping, and found pillows and blankets in an overhead compartment. They each settled down into one of the seat-beds, and the last thing either of them heard before drifting off was "We are now approaching New York. This is just to refuel, you may not disembark to browse the gift shop."


	8. Part Eight: If I Could Turn the Page in ...

_Part Eight: If I Could Turn the Page in Time_

If I could turn the page  
In time then I'd rearrange  
Just a day or two  
(Close my, close my, close my eyes)

A gentle bump and screech woke Sydney. She sat up, and glanced out the jet windows. Stretches of concrete swiftly passed by outside. She turned and noticed that Vaughn had awakened as well, bright green eyes alert and watching her.

"Are we in L.A.?" she asked him. He nodded. She groaned, threw herself back onto the cot, and covered her face with her hands. "I don't want to go home yet." Hearing no response, she moved her hands and looked at him. He was sitting up, staring down at her sadly.

"Neither do I." Syd rose again, and joined Vaughn on his own makeshift bed. They wrapped their arms around each other and embraced until the pilot's voice came over the intercom.

"We have arrived in sunny Los Angeles. This concludes your flight with CIA airlines. Thank you for flying the confidential skies. Please remember to return your seats and trays to an upright position and that to speak of this flight with anyone outside the agency is a violation of federal law. Have a good day."

Syd and Vaughn quickly got up and began tidying up the cabin. Fighting the motion of the taxiing jet and their burgeoning hangovers, they returned the pillows and blankets to the overhead compartments, restored the cots to their usual position as seats, and got most of the empty mini-bottles into a convenient wastebasket.

The plane came to a stop, and the two agents looked at each other. Vaughn tugged at his suit jacket, and Syd smoothed her hair, both of them attempting to look presentable. Syd grabbed Vaughn's hand.

"Are you ready to do this?" He nodded.

"Are you?" She nodded back at him, and squeezed his hand.

"Vaughn, I know this isn't going to be easy, and I'm not going to pretend that what we did was supposed to make it any easier. But remember, no matter what happens from now to the moment this ends, I love you." He smiled sadly at her.

"I love you too." They shared a brief kiss, then Syd let go of Vaughn's hand.

"Well, I guess we better get out of here."

They walked towards the front of the jet. The cockpit door was still closed, the pilot probably recording the flight in his log. Syd wanted to have a word with the him, but wanted much more not to stick around. She and Vaughn were expected back to give their debrief.

Vaughn twisted the mechanism on the jet's main door, and opened it out. The door was one of those that doubled as the steps, and he lowered it down to a waiting crewman. He thanked the worker, one of only a dozen that staffed this small airstrip the CIA used. He then stood up and motioned for Syd to precede him outside.

Sydney stepped out the hatch, squinting her eyes against the bright L.A. sunlight. Somewhere inside of her, she'd expected nighttime when they landed, as it surely was in Vienna. However, they had chased the daylight west, and no clouds concealed the sun here.

As she carefully descended the steps, she noticed a car about fifty yards away. She had little time to wonder who'd come to pick them up, as a cheerful voice greeted her.

"Hey Syd!" She grimaced as Weiss' voice boomed next to her. Normally, she would be tempted to giggle a little, reminded of the jokes she and Vaughn shared about their friend. But a headache started to blossom behind her eyes, and she wanted nothing more than to get in the car, out of the sun. Knowing that Weiss would understand her condition, she offered him no more than a curt "Hi Weiss" before hurrying to the car.

Vaughn, however, possessed no such luck. As his foot touched the tarmac, Weiss grabbed his arm, and held him there, letting Syd advance several feet in front of them. Vaughn also squinted in the blazing sunlight, and wished to be under cover as much as Syd.

"Hey Weiss, what the hell are you doing?" Weiss kept hold of his friend's arm, and began walking them slowly toward the car.

"Being very glad that it wasn't Lauren or Jack here to pick you up." His face showed seriousness and concern, but Vaughn was too busy shielding his eyes to notice.

"Lauren's back already? Damn, what'd you tell her about the mission? Why is it good you're here?" Weiss shook his head at Vaughn's apparent denseness, and wondered if there was a drop of alcohol left on the jet.

"Lauren got back this morning, and we told her that we had to send you two on a quick recon mission, but who you were sent to watch turned out to not be Covenant." He then stopped them, and forced Vaughn to look at him.

"Dude, you look and smell like you've had _way_ too much of the types of fun married men aren't supposed to have with women who aren't their wives. That would've gotten you in _big_ trouble with Lauren, buddy." At this, Vaughn's head cleared a little, and he noticed Weiss' expression.

"And Jack?"

"He probably would've just shot you. Several times for good measure. It doesn't look like you guys were being too smart." Vaughn hung his head, and gave his face a quick rub with his hand.

"You're right, but," before he could finish, Syd's voice rang out from the car.

"Come on you guys!" Weiss let Vaughn go, and they started walking again.

"It's cool, man. I understand, and I won't say anything. But before we go back to the office, I'm taking you guys home to clean up. You left some clothes at my place before you had to go back, and Syd can clean up at hers."

"Thanks, man."

"Yeah, thank me for all the sht I take for you. The both of you."

"Shut up."

The men reached the car, and Weiss opened a door for Vaughn. He resisted the temptation to shove the hungover idiot in so they could leave quicker. As it was, he would have to come up with a good reason why their arrival to the Rotunda was delayed. He didn't think that "Agents Vaughn and Bristow needed a shower and fresh clothes" would work, especially since they were supposed to take care of that in Vienna.

_Evidently, they took care of more than that_, thought Weiss, as he sat in the driver's seat of the black sedan and started it up. He had plenty of sympathy for Syd and Vaughn, but they chose the wrong time to manifest one of their few acts of irresponsibility. _Good God, it's like Nice all over again, where good ol' Weiss has to save their besotted asses._

And the enemies wouldn't be the only ones gunning for his dumbass friend. Vaughn had told Weiss about Jack's warning to him. If the elder Bristow wasn't going to put up with indiscretions involving his daughter, he sure as hell wasn't going to be happy when said indiscretions endangered an important objective _and_ Sydney's life. Weiss wasn't sure whom Vaughn should be more afraid of if the actions of the lovelorn agents got out; the Covenant or Jack. Weiss wouldn't put money on the Covenant.

So to prevent all that, Weiss would drive these morons back to his house where they could "dispose of the evidence," so to speak. He listened to the two of them whisper small comforts to each other.

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay."

"You know I'll be here for you."

"I know, but I can't openly rely on you."

"I know, we can work something out where we can talk if you need it."

"_Just talk._" Weiss' voice cut across their soft conversation. The two agents' heads snapped up to stare at their driver. Weiss glanced in the rear view mirror to see Syd looking at him in surprise, Vaughn with slight annoyance. "I mean it you guys. There's too much at stake to have you two playing around." Syd glared at him.

"We _know_." Weiss quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Oh yeah? Well, you didn't seem to know all that long ago." When neither of the offending duo replied, Weiss smirked and turned his full attention back to the road.

Minutes later, he pulled into his driveway. Without a word, everyone exited the car. Weiss immediately went to his front door. After unlocking it, he turned to see Sydney and Vaughn still standing by the car.

"I'll see you in a bit."

"Okay." The two looked as if they wanted to kiss, hug, or something, but wisely, they didn't. Weiss kept his approval to himself and opened the door. Vaughn followed him inside, but stopped in the living room, whereas Weiss continued into the kitchen.

"You know where everything's at." Vaughn didn't move.

"What are you doing?" Weiss pulled a nail out of a drawer, and headed back towards the front door. He pulled his cell phone out and waved it Vaughn.

"We have a flat tire. Or rather, we're going to have one." Vaughn gave him an indecipherable look, then turned and headed toward the bathroom. Weiss shrugged and went back outside.

He hadn't actually seen Sydney leave, and didn't seen any sign of her outside. For some reason, he'd actually expected to see her fretting about his yard. He smacked himself mentally; though she'd slipped, and probably with good cause, Syd wasn't like that. Of course she was where she was supposed to be - in her house, cleaning up.

He popped the lid on the trunk, and shuffled some items around to uncover the spare tire. He felt fortunate that the spare was a real tire, not a "donut," or he'd have to do a real tire change. He surveyed the tire, looking for the best way to damage it realistically. At the same time he pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed a number.

"Yes?" The secretary answering the phone was supposed to say something that didn't give any clue to where the call connected to, in case someone dialed a wrong number. However, the secretary put such pomposity into the word that Weiss felt sure that if somebody with a brain dialed wrong, they'd figure something was up. _He thinks he's so uppity because he works with the Joint Task Force. I should tell Dixon he mishandled some paperwork so he gets shipped back to the main office to work with all the rest of the "run of the mill" secretaries._ Instead of voicing his opinion of the conceited secretary, Weiss merely made his report.

"This is Agent Weiss. Can you please inform Director Dixon that I will be late in bringing Agents Vaughn and Bristow in to their debriefing? We have a flat tire on the car." The man on the other side of the conversation sighed as if Weiss' problem personally inconvenienced him.

"Would you like me to send another agent to pick you up?" Weiss grabbed the jack from the corner of the trunk and began clanging it loudly.

"Oh no, that's okay. I've got it under control. Look, I'll be there in a half hour. Please tell Dixon."

"Yes, sir." The secretary said _sir_ as if it was a curse word. Weiss hung up before the annoying man could say anything else. He felt aggravated enough about this situation, he didn't need some stuck-up secretary giving him trouble.

He looked at the nail he'd brought out. It looked like an oversized tack. _Hmm, I could place it in between the treads. Naw, that wouldn't look realistic enough. I could place it in a tread, but would it reach far enough to flatten the tire? Would it deflate all the way? Maybe I should use a tire on the car, the tread might be thinner._ Weiss' thoughts continued to churn as he tried to figure out how to make the tire convincingly flat. _This might get dirty……_

Vaughn exited the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and feeling somewhat refreshed. Though the shower washed away the damning smells of drunkenness and fulfilled desire, it couldn't wash away the feelings caused by those states.

His head felt heavy, as did his heart. He didn't really want a drunken tryst in an airplane galley to be his goodbye to Sydney, and he highly doubted she did as well.

_Why are you thinking of it as a goodbye?_ This thought followed him to Weiss' bedroom, where a bulging backpack lay in the corner opposite the doorway. Silently thanking Weiss for never cleaning, he picked up the backpack, unzipped it, and pulled out underwear, socks, t-shirt, and a carefully folded suit. As he began to dress, his mind continued to process his burden.

Sydney never said that it was goodbye. In fact, she'd promised the complete opposite, to stay with him whenever she could. Yes, they would be separated physically, but only a short distance. The closeness of lovers would be denied them, but not the comfortable proximity of friends, or good coworkers. And they would always be wound tightly around each other in their hearts, entwined together in their souls.

However, Vaughn's mood darkened as he recalled that he would have to maintain intimacy with Lauren. Where once the thought of his wife comforted and warmed him, he now felt nauseated and chilled. How could he look into those lying blue eyes and suppress the urge to blacken them? Would he be able to listen to her speak without wanting to gag her? Could he sleep next to her at night and not smother her with his pillow?

Memories of Sydney came to his mind. He remembered those long years ago, when she had been forced to smile at Sloane, day in and day out. In the halls of SD-6, in the briefing room, in his office, she had no choice but to speak civilly to him, pleasantly even, when she desired nothing more than to slit his throat and watch him bleed his life away on the floor.

_I can do this_, Vaughn told himself. However, another thought caught him before he could become too confident: Sydney didn't have to sleep with her enemy.

Finishing his tie, and giving it a final yank, Vaughn banished his doubts and headed back to the living room. Just as he got there, Weiss entered the front door, his suit looking as if he'd been laying face down in the driveway. Vaughn frowned at him.

"What on earth happened to you?" Weiss shrugged and grinned.

"I changed a flat tire. Doesn't it look like it?" Before Vaughn could respond, the front door opened again and Sydney came in, clean and revitalized.

"Hey you guys. Weiss, how'd you get so dirty? I thought the whole point was to clean up?" Vaughn answered for his friend.

"He changed a tire. How come you look so alive? I feel like sht." Syd grinned at him.

"Maybe because you forgot to take some of your miracle cure yourself." Vaughn groaned.

"Maybe you're right." Weiss cleared his throat, stopping the banter before it could take off.

"Maybe we should go now. Come on you guys." Dutifully, Syd and Vaughn followed Weiss back out to the car.

The car ride to the Rotunda was wonderfully silent, in Weiss' opinion. He still felt too annoyed to make idle conversation with his friends, and they didn't talk out of consideration for his ire. However, as they pulled into the parking structure, the whispering started again. Weiss didn't interrupt, allowing them their last minute comforts before being forced back into the harsh reality of separation and lies.

Entering the parking structure, Weiss deliberately found a space far from the elevator. He figured that Syd and Vaughn could use the extra walking to help compose themselves. As he threw the car's gear shift into "Park," Weiss looked up into the rear view mirror, this time to catch his passengers staring at each other, clasping their hands together. They leaned their heads together, foreheads touching.

"I love you."

"I love you." Weiss rolled his eyes.

"Come on, you two." The three agents disembarked from the car. Weiss shut his car door, and trigged the car's alarm with the remote. He looked over to Syd, and Vaughn standing together, and then looked around the parking garage. It just so happened that the pair were standing in a spot not swept by the security cameras.

Weiss hurried over to them before they could move and change that. "Hold on!" 

They stared at him impatiently as he moved behind them. He grabbed Sydney by the shoulders, and moved her until she stood on his left side. Then he grabbed Vaughn, and moved his friend to his right.

"Okay, that's better, let's go."

The three of them strode through the parking structure, wearing lies, preparing to combat lies. Every so often, a sigh could be heard, or a pained intake of breath, but otherwise the walk was silent. All the way to the elevator, up to the main floor, through the security checkpoints, and into the Rotunda proper.

They stood there for brief seconds, viewing the everyday bustle of an intelligence office. Agents and analysts walked hurriedly around, many carrying documents or folders. All of them oblivious to being watched from the entrance, many of them accustomed to being observed for most of their working hours.

Then one figure did notice the silent watchers, and detached herself from the whirling throng. She was the last person any of them wished to greet first, and each of them readied their internal defenses as she gifted one of their group with a smile that was surely insincere.

"Michael!" The comely blonde with the big, blue, deceitful eyes threw herself into her husband's arms, while he quickly plastered on a fake smile. She embraced him, tightly, enthusiastically, and then looked over to Syd and Weiss, who quickly donned subdued smiles of their own. "How was the mission?" Vaughn frowned a little, and his eyes slid over to Sydney, whose face betrayed nothing, except for the slightest amount of alarm in her eyes.

"It was boring. Nothing happened." Lauren let go of Vaughn, only to grab his hand.

"You don't have to go into your debriefing for a few minutes. Come talk to me."

She quickly pulled him away from Syd and Weiss, leading him to the other side of the Rotunda.

Vaughn mentally groaned as his wife forced him to follow her. The disturbing feel of her hand grasping his scattered his memories of the last 24 hours, making them no more real than a pleasant dream. It seemed highly unlikely that he'd made love to Sydney, he was married to this woman in front of him. No matter how much he loved Sydney, or how much of a traitor his wife was, he was still committed to Lauren. For better or worse, though this was definitely worse. Much, much worse than he ever imagined.

When did his grief and love for Sydney dim enough to allow him to fall in love? Or did they? Surely, he was manipulated somehow into falling for Lauren. He remembered their early days together, when she seemed to know exactly what to say to him in any situation: whether he was balking at starting a relationship, caught by a memory, or consumed by his grief. Why did he listen to her? Why did he let this duplicitous btch lead him into her gilded trap?

He wished, for a moment, that he could go back in time and warn his younger self. That he could tell that tortured man that his true love had not died, that he could search for her, or wait for her to come back, and have his life restored to him. The life he was supposed to lead, living with Sydney, loving her, supporting her, protecting her.

But time travel was impossible, unless the Rambaldi artifact they stumbled on next happened to be a time machine. He'd worry about that if it ever happened. For now, he was stuck trading lies with the succubus that called herself his wife.

Vaughn's thoughts ended as Lauren parked him at his desk, and gave him a brief kiss on the cheek.

"Don't forget, we have the appointment with Dr. Barnett tomorrow morning. I cut my stay in Washington short so we could attend."

Vaughn found it very amusing that Lauren reminded him of the appointment, which he had set up with Barnett and Dixon in the hopes of manipulating Lauren through the sessions. This would be their second appointment, the first being just a day after he revealed the evidence of Lauren's true allegiance to Syd and Jack. 

The first session had been an "obligatory" background session, with Vaughn and Lauren each having a turn to tell "their" story. _If only Barnett had known how hard it'd been for me not to say "and then I found the btch's wig and gun in her suitcase" at the end._ Vaughn turned that derisive thought into one wondering how he could use tomorrow's session to his advantage.

"I won't forget. Do you have any more trips coming up?" Lauren's eyes slid down and to the side, signaling Vaughn that she may be preparing to tell a lie.

"Mum wants me to come to Richmond and spend a day with her. She's packing up some of Dad's things, and she doesn't want to do it alone." Vaughn nodded at her, but before he could reply, Weiss approached.

"Hey man, Dixon wants you in debrief, now." Vaughn glanced quickly to Weiss, hoping that his friend could read the expression of relief in his eyes. Then he looked back at Lauren, who gazed at him expectantly. Realizing what he had to do, Vaughn took his self-control in hand, then leaned over and kissed his wife as she kissed him earlier.

"I'll see you in a little while." He couldn't read her expression as he backed away from her. Not caring, he turned and followed Weiss.


	9. Part Nine: To Believe in You

_Part Nine: To Believe in You_

But I couldn't find a way  
So I'll settle for one day  
To believe in you  
(Tell me, tell me, tell me lies)

To his mild surprise, Weiss led Vaughn not to the conference room, but to Dixon's office. After a few moments of thought, Vaughn decided that it made more sense, considering the debrief should only consist of Sydney, Dixon, and himself. As Weiss opened the office door, however, Vaughn felt astonishment yet again. On one of Dixon's couches, Jack sat next to Sydney.

Vaughn quickly schooled his features to mask his surprise, and any other emotion that might lurk across his face. He knew Jack possessed an impressive ability to read most people, and that certainly included him. He wondered if Jack already picked up anything from Syd, and sincerely hoped not.

Dixon nodded at Weiss, who nodded back, then reversed himself out the door, shutting it behind him. Dixon gestured to Vaughn.

"Please, have a seat." Vaughn surveyed the available seats in the room, and chose the couch placed perpendicular to one holding Syd and Jack. He seated himself in the corner of the couch farthest away from the Bristows, not wanting to betray anything with his body language. He made sure he faced Dixon, and gave the director his full attention, barely glancing anywhere else.

"Agent Vaughn, Sydney gave us her debrief on the op. Now would you please give us yours?" As directed, Vaughn recited the events of the previous night, from their arrival, to their departure. Leaving out a few "minor" details, of course. He never took his eyes off Dixon, and concluded with a question.

"Sir, I assume Sydney told you about her suspicions?" Dixon nodded slightly.

"Yes, she said that we may have been deliberately fed false intel." Vaughn glanced at Sydney, long enough to notice that she kept her face carefully neutral.

"I concur with that. Is there anything else?" To Vaughn's dismay, Jack spoke up.

"We apologize for having to leave you in Vienna overnight. We should've made contingency plans, including procuring a larger hotel room. How did you manage?" Vaughn felt speechless, and even worse, a betraying blush began to creep up his cheeks. Fortunately, Syd saved him.

"We did okay. We ended up drawing straws for the bed. Vaughn got the floor."

Vaughn felt shocked at how easily the lie rolled off Syd's tongue. She even managed to keep her expression blasé, until the end, when she shot him a triumphant smirk. It was a show, designed to hide their true actions, and explain away his blush.

"I see," Jack replied drolly. "Then you will be grateful to go back to your bed tonight."

Vaughn couldn't help rolling his eyes, and made no attempt to hide his disgust. The one thing that he absolutely _hated_ about Jack was that the older man decided to bait him at the worst possible times. Dixon strategically chose that moment to clear his throat discreetly, bringing the attention back to himself.

"Agent Vaughn, I want to extend my personal gratitude for accepting your current assignment. It must be terribly difficult, and you are acting with utmost professionalism." Dixon glanced over to Sydney. "And I commend both of you for putting your differences behind you to work towards this common goal. I know you two have a complicated history, which has caused a few minor disruptions, but we need to work together seamlessly now. Especially since we have a pronounced weakness that we must leave undisturbed, for the time being."

Both Syd and Vaughn cast their eyes down at Dixon's mention of "disruptions." They felt their guilt keenly at that moment, Vaughn regretting the horrible manner in which he handled his relationship with Sydney, she thinking of her rash actions, screaming matches in the conference room sitting topmost in her mind. Dixon turned his attention solely to Sydney, making her squirm.

"And Sydney, I realize this must be a particularly difficult time for you as well. The objective seems to be in sight, but patience is still needed." Syd blushed and looked down. She wanted to believe that Dixon meant the Covenant, and how discovering the Passenger may yield more information about the Covenant's motives and her missing time. However, she couldn't help but think Dixon meant the situation with Vaughn as well.

She detested how everyone in the office knew about her feelings for Vaughn, a married man. Most of them understood, given her unique circumstances, but it didn't make her feel one iota better. She raised her head back up to look at Dixon, and cut him off before he could unknowingly rub more salt in her wounds.

"Dixon, I'm fine." Another thing untouched by her missing time was Syd's familiarity with the director. Dixon generously let her retain that familiarity, hesitant to rob her of anything else from her previous life.

Syd flashed a brilliant smile to Dixon, reinforcing her statement. She turned the smile to Vaughn, then to her father. Though each of the three men possessed their own distinctive feelings towards this woman, none of them could resist responding to her with a smile their own. Dixon spoke again.

"Very good. Well, this should all be over soon anyway. Once we do obtain the necessary intel on the Passenger, if not intercepting the person herself, we will be able to end this." This statement forced Sydney and Vaughn to gaze at each other for a few long seconds. Neither Jack nor Dixon missed the silent interchange between them, ending when Vaughn turned back to Dixon.

"Sir, that may not be the end of it. For me, anyway." Dixon gave the young agent a puzzled look.

"What do you mean, Agent Vaughn?" Vaughn shifted in his seat nervously.

"Well, even though we know that," he paused to force the name out of his mouth. "Lauren works for the Covenant, we don't know for how long." His eyes shifted to Jack momentarily. "She may have been ordered to, um, find me, for whatever reason. We don't know those reasons. But the fact is that I'm a confirmed Covenant asset, so to speak. If we take Lauren into custody now, it may jeopardize my life." Vaughn looked over to Sydney, needing her reassurance, and not caring what the other two men might infer from it. She gave him a small, grim smile, and sympathy filled her eyes. She thought him brave to share what they talked about earlier, even though it needed to be consideration anyway. Vaughn moved his eyes slightly to see the rarest of occurrences: Jack looking at him with a measure of respect.

"That could certainly be true," Jack conceded. "We may have been short-sighted to not think of that. Though we certainly want this ordeal to be over for you as soon as possible." Vaughn watched Jack's eyes turn oh-so-briefly to Syd, and wondered if he saw a trace of sadness. It wouldn't be terribly surprising, almost everything Jack did was for Sydney. Whether or not he approved, Jack knew where his daughter's heart lay. Vaughn inclined his head to Jack and smiled ruefully.

"I appreciate that, but it's about more than what _I_ want." Jack smiled back at him.

"You've had quite a change of heart since we last discussed this matter." Vaughn looked down.

"I've had time to think about what's at stake."

Before either man could say anymore, Dixon rose from his desk.

"Gentlemen, Sydney. I apologize, but I have an appointment shortly. If there are no other thoughts on the mission, I would like to conclude." He looked once at Syd, and once at Vaughn. "I will expect your reports tomorrow afternoon." They both acknowledged his reminder with a nod. Wordlessly, they stood up, as did Jack, and filed out the office door. Together, they walked away from Dixon's office

After several steps, Jack paused, and turned to look at the two younger agents, who'd stopped with him.

"Mr. Vaughn, I want you to know that I am not unsympathetic to your position." Jack's eyes darkened with old pain at his statement, and Vaughn quickly glanced at Syd, who looked slightly troubled as well. "The expectations of you are very high, and you are under a lot of pressure, both professional," Jack paused, his eyes darting quickly to Sydney and then back to Vaughn. "And personal. But you will endure." With that, the elder Bristow smiled at his daughter, turned, and walked away, now intent on his own business.

Vaughn looked at Syd with a quizzical expression.

"What was that all about? Did he mean that?" Syd shook her head and placed her hand on Vaughn's shoulder.

"I have no idea. He could've just been saying that for your benefit." She smiled then. "Or mine. But I believe it. You will endure. _We_ will endure."


End file.
